


Dream a Little Dream of Me

by deanandsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly baiting, Dreaming, Other, season three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3823477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanandsam/pseuds/deanandsam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's range of horny dreams are nothing if not varied. Even the Impala gets to have a memorable moment with the elder Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream a Little Dream of Me

The blissful little moans coming from the bed nearest the door caused Sam Winchester to roll his eyes in exasperation.

Even in sleep his horn-dog of a brother could make Sam's cheeks flush.  
Dean was obviously dreaming. Probably luxuriating in the arms of a set of hot sextuplets, the younger Winchester mused.

 

He closed his eyes tight to give them momentarily relief from the hours spent staring at the luminous screen of the lap-top.  
Delivering a final eye-roll at his big brother's dream-antics, Sam returned his attention to his research. He was determined to get Dean out of the crazy crossroads deal he'd made, even if it blinded him.

The thought of what would happen to his sibling obsessed him twenty-four hours a day. There would be no one-night stands in Hell for Dean, Sam anguished; only interminable tortures.

:  
:

Just as Sam had hypothesized by Dean's squirming on the bed and his throaty little breaths, the elder Winchester was living the dream, but not quite as the younger man would have imagined

Dean looked around, Sam was nowhere in sight. The kid must have taken off into the woods for a leak.  
He glanced at the Impala. He'd just prettied her up, her black paint-work reflected the oncoming twilight like a polished mirror. She was almost hypnotical. His beautiful Baby.  
:  
"I love how much you love me, Dean," a husky voice confided.  
Dean halted his course towards the car, looking around. But there was no-one to be seen, only an uninterrupted panorama of uncultivated fields.

"Who's there?" Dean's voice was threatening.  
He did a three hundred and sixty degree turn just to be sure, but apart from himself and the Impala, nothing moved.

 

The voice purred invitingly. "Don't worry. It's just you and me sweet-heart."  
Dean hesitated, unsure of what was happening.  
He rested his gaze on the Impala. He must be hallucinating, for the voice seemed to come straight from his four-wheeled baby.

"Impala?........!"  
The word sounded strange on his lips now that he was using it to address the car directly.

"You see anyone else around, honey,?" was the amused reply.

"It can't be. Cars don't speak." Even as he said the words, they sounded completely ridiculous to his own ears. He was talking to the Impala. What the hell!

"Dean, I'm no longer just a car. Your unending love has turned me into far more. Look at me with your heart instead of your intellect."

:

Dean could feel his eyes widening and his mouth falling open when before his eyes the Impala began to change.  
Like some supernatural Optimus Prime she rose up, her steel body shrinking, her silver-ringed tires replaced by a long pair of perfectly turned legs and arms, each limb sporting a narrow silver chain around wrists and ankles.

The black paintwork morphed into a sexy little black dress that hugged the now human curves like a second skin, the trunk and hood of the once Impala going to form a perfect ass and a firm pair of curvaceous breasts.  
What had once been the wind-shield was now a irresistibly luminous visage, topped off by a silver-hued cascade of shimmering tresses.

Dean's breath caught in his throat at the beauty laid out before him; somehow the fact that a moment ago this goddess on earth had been five yards of thick Chicago steel completely slipped his mind.  
She was the apotheosis of every woman he'd lain with; of every wet-dream he'd ever had.

 

"Like what you see?" she grinned mischievously.  
Perky too, Dean reflected in delight. He did love a frisky woman.

:

He took a step forward into her personal space, unable to drag his eyes away from this living embodiment of his Baby. Her lips, when he caught them with his own, were as soft and intoxicating as he'd expected, yielding passionately to his kiss.  
Her body melted into his, a perfect fit against the hard planes of his chest, the soft curves luscious and arousing.

When their naked skin brushed together, Dean finally comprehended how paradise must feel. It wasn't some mythical dimension he didn't even begin to believe in, it was right here, right now, entwined in the arms of his Baby.

The strangled moans coming from his throat, when he peaked off in the heights of pleasure, were of heady abandon. And when he rolled tremblingly off her, heart beating madly, his body shimmering with sweat, he vowed he'd never let her go...never...never... never...

But when he stretched out an arm to circle the lithe body pressed into his side, instead of the velvet softness he crashed against something hard, a bolt of pain shooting though his arm.

:

He opened sleep-heavy eyes to discover the lanky form of his little brother looking down at him, eyebrows raised in a mix of amusement and concern.  
""Hey, dude. You okay? Going by the thud, I thought you were gonna fall straight through the floor to the centre of the Earth."

It took a minute for Dean to fully understand his actual state.  
Where was she? was the first question to come to mind.

"You were dreaming, Dean," Sam explained patiently, in his annoying little brother know-it-all voice.  
"And I'd rather not know anything about it, not even the tiniest detail!" he warned before reaching down to give Dean a hand up.

:

So it had all been a hot dream, but Dean just couldn't resist baiting his straight-laced little brother.  
"God she was smokin' hot, Sammy! A rack and ass made in heaven, perky nipples like you could never imagine. a..."

"Uff...," The pillow hitting him squarely in the face put an end to the conversation.

But Dean couldn't halt the grin that curved his lips. She'd been so hot, the Impala chick, that he'd fallen out of bed.  
Way to go!

:

He sauntered towards the bathroom, giving his Baby a quick glance through the window.  
There she was, four-wheeled, sleek and elegant, but definitely no hot chick.

Dean smirked. He'd never look at her in the same way ever again!

:

The end


End file.
